


Fault

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: (it's a journey), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashing, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bucky and Bruce bonding over not being able to control his alter egos, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Some Bruce Banner angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:03:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13871724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Bruce is tired, sore and reflecting about how much the Hulk takes over him, how much he's done he wishes he didn't. A friendly someone picks him up.Bruce, Bucky and Loki, angst, friendship and identity problems





	Fault

It's hard.

 

Bruce thought that maybe with time it would be less hard, that he would somehow get used to it, get the hang of it. Maybe with time he would be able to control the Hulking out better, even control his actions as the Hulk. Maybe he and that green skinned beast would become more in synch, become more of the same person.

 

But instead, the opposite was happening. He couldn't control when would Hulk out, and it didn't hurt any less, sometimes even more. (Not just the actual physical pain from his body changing shape but the horrid realisation that someone else was taking over and that he was losing himself). Not only did he not control what he did as the Hulk, he couldn't remember it, he had no idea of what the Hulk did. He had a notion that the Hulk disliked him, and that often did things just to “spite Banner”.

 

And now, to top it all, he didn't know if he would be able to come to back to himself every time he changed. It had been a blow to know that in Sakaar he'd been two years as the Hulk, two years as single minded warrior who was only there for the entertainment of the people, to fight and hurt others, not even thinking about who he was fighting, or why he was fighting...

 

When Bruce had decided to become a scientist, he had wanted to help others, to help the world. Be recognised by his mind, by his intellect, by his ability to create things that would improve the world in ways unthought of. He had the potential for that, and he had been prepared for that. And he had just spent a whole two years of his life fighting random people on an arena. Very often he wished he had someone else's life: no matter who they were, no matter what their problems were, there was only one person inside of them – no one else could take the wheel.

 

Except in the case of the person in front of him, maybe.

 

Bruce gone back to himself in an alley, and had spent an unknown amount of time unconscious, recovering from the blows the Hulk had gotten in their last battle. Because Bruce didn't often know what the Hulk did, but could feel its consequences.

 

As he was trying to get up from the floor, there was a hand offering to help him up – a metal hand, belonging to one James Buchanan Barnes, fugitive of the justice, former Hydra operative, best friend of someone he appreciated.

 

There were many conflicting opinions about Barnes; Tony was specially venomous against him, Steve for him. Truth was, Bruce never got to him all that much, but refused to blame him for the deaths he caused as the Winter Soldier. Bruce knew about not knowing what someone else inside your head did, and knew that the real Barnes couldn't be held accountable of all that horror.

 

Couldn't and shouldn't be held accountable.

 

“If you need a place to recover, I could take you to mine. You know.... while you get back to yourself.”

 

It was a kind offer, and Bruce accepted. He was limping, and Barnes (“it's Bucky”, he said, a ghost of a smile at the mere mention of the name, probably associated with memories of when he wasn't so broken) offered to helped him walk to his hiding place.

 

“Thank you... I just wanted to say that I don't... what Tony said, and did.... I...” Bruce's head was still swimming after the all the blows, and going back to himself after a good while being the Hulk, but there was a message his drowsy, still-not-totally-there self wanted to pass on. “I wanted to say that I know the Winter Soldier is not you.”

 

“Thank you. It is nice to hear that sometimes.” Barnes (Bucky) said, and he was soft in ways that no one could see in all the propaganda, in all the flies. Soft in his eyes, soft in his voice, despite his bulky build. Someone kind and good. And they had taken him and turned him into a living weapon, a mindless drone for their bidding.

 

The world could be an extremely unfair place. And they were the ones who got the short stick, always.

 

“I also realise that you and your monster are different people. And... I understand the burden of having to live with him. Always.”

 

Bucky understood, unlike the rest of the world. “But it was you who did it”, others would say, or very often, simply think. And Bucky wished it would be as simple as that. If it was he who did it, then he could repent, he could atone. But he never chose any of those things, he never would have chosen them. He'd been a mere spectator as his body acted and did the unspeakable.

 

He took Banner to his hiding place, an abandoned spa place on the edge of the city and started tending to his wounds, softly, gently. Maybe these little things didn't make up for everything he'd done across history, but they made him feel good. And if you feel good one day, then that's one day for yourself, one day not to regret. Little by little, he was reclaiming his right to be able to feel good again.

 

“How's Steve?”

 

Bucky smiled.

 

“Busy. He's always trying to help the world, save everyone, help injustice in every form... And there is a lot of injustice nowadays. But he's happier now that I am more or less functioning. I think he feels responsible sometimes, for what happened to me, even though he wasn't with Hydra.”

 

The soldier laughed to himself, as he was bandaging one of Bruce's battered hands.

 

“Sometimes I feel that half of our relationship is just us telling each other, “it wasn't your fault”. We eat up so much guilt that doesn't even beling to us, don't we?”

 

“Amen to that. Still, it must be nice hearing it so often, you know, the it wasn't your fault bit. Maybe even often enough to start believing it, you know.”

 

Bucky stopped and looked at Bruce dead in the eye.

 

“It isn't you fault.”

 

“What isn't?”

 

“Whatever it is that the Hulk did this time.”

 

They laughed, at ease. It was nice finding a kindred soul among so many geniuses and mind bending... everythings.

 

“How did you find me, anyway?”

 

“Magic. My partner has a tendency of taking in strays, especially when the rest of the world seems to have forgotten them.”

 

“Your... partner?”

 

As if on cue, a familiar long shadow walked in the room.

 

“Friend Bucky, you must... Oh, hello again, Bruce.”

 

“I take it you're still in one of your good moments?”

 

“In what concerns to you, maybe, not sure about the rest of the world.”

 

Same old Loki, then. He'd been ready to fight the man and throw him under all the possible buses when Thor suggested working with him, but the truth was, Loki was more of a wild card than an honest to god villain. If it was good, or simply interesting for him to help, then he would, the rest of the world and its moral axis be damned.

 

So, better to stay on his good side.

 

“Thanks for sending someone to pick me up, I could have found my way back, but... this” he said, motioning to the place they were in, forgotten from the world, calm, so, so very calm and soothing...”has been real nice. An oasis.”

 

Bucky patted him in the back, and went to some other room, probably to update Steve.

 

“I trust you and Barnes had a pleasant conversation?” Loki said, something sly about the words.

 

“He understands what I have to go through in a way most people never could. In a way Thor never did, as much as I appreciate him.”

 

And then it dawned on Bruce.

 

“That's why you sent him, isn't it? But why... how?”

 

There was something melancholic in Loki's pale eyes and then one of his hands turned blue. He looked at it with sorrow, with shame.

 

“I too know about thinking yourself a genius, and one day in your life seeing yourself a monster. I too know about doing actions and not recognising yourself in them. Losing control. We may not be able to do much to erase what we did, but it can be comforting to know that we're not alone, isn't it?”

 

“It kind of is, Loki. Thank you for helping me see it – it's being... therapeutic. Now I feel bad that the Hulk made a you-shaped crater in Tony's house.”

 

“Not your fault, Doctor Banner.”

 

“You know what. It wasn't.”

 

It still hurt.

 

Changing, losing track of who you were, not knowing what you may have done... it was scary, and it was an ordeal and Bruce wished he never had to share his head with anyone else.

 

But maybe, just maybe, and with the help of some other rejects like him, he would be able to begin forgiving himself, for all that he and the Hulk had done. Maybe it really wasn't his fault.

 

He still hurt, but now he didn't have to hurt alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please do leave some feedback if you liked! I live for your wordssss
> 
> You know you want to comment ;)


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